#need to be working late cause i’m a singer!

[verypeculiargirl]

i wish i was a little singer living in nyc

[delphicstrawberries]

sometimes you just have to write poetry in your journal with a brightly colored glitter gel pen, especially if the poetry does not fit the vibe of a colorful glitter gel pen

[alohajix]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

Description: a late-night interview with Harry Styles turns into a game of control, filthy whispers, and desk-fucking in a locked studio where the mics are off—but the heat’s just getting started.

Warnings: this one-shot contains explicit sexual content, including oral sex (m/f), fingering, dominant language, mild choking, rough sex, and dirty talk. Readers +18.

Words count: 2.3K

*****

The studio was dim, lit only by the warm orange glow of the backlit shelves and the soft overheads above the mics. It was quiet, late, the city humming faintly behind soundproof glass.

I adjusted my headphones and clicked my pen, heart thudding harder than I’d like to admit. He was already seated across from me. Calm. Casual. Dangerous in the way only someone who knew their effect could be. Harry Styles. Black trousers, a partially unbuttoned shirt that made it impossible not to glance at his chest. Rings glittering under the low light. A few curls were pushed back behind his ears, and when his eyes met mine—slow and steady—I nearly forgot how to breathe.

“You nervous?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

I smirked, covering my fluttering chest with a raised brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?���

He tilted his head slightly. “You already know I’m not.”

God. His voice. Like honey dripped over gravel. Smooth, but with the scratch of something darker beneath. I cleared my throat, leaned toward the mic. “Alright. Final episode of Midnight Truths, and tonight’s guest probably needs no introduction—but I’ll give him one anyway. Singer, songwriter, actor, and a man whose fashion choices continue to outshine everyone else’s—Harry Styles.”

He grinned, biting the corner of his lip. “Thanks for having me.”

I pressed my lips together, composing myself. “So… what made you agree to this interview? Late night, small studio, no team, no pre-set questions.”

He shrugged one shoulder, eyes fixed on mine like he already knew the answer. “Heard you were good.”

“Just good?”

His smile widened. “Alright, fine. Heard you were dangerous.”

That sent a jolt down my spine. “I only ask honest questions.”

He leaned forward. “Then ask me something honest.”

The way he said it—soft, slow, velvet-wrapped—made the mic between us suddenly feel like the only thing keeping this professional. I clicked my pen again, flipping to a blank page in my notebook more for show than need. “Okay. First question: What’s something people think they know about you that’s completely wrong?”

He hummed, gaze dropping briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “That I’m always sweet.”

I blinked. The pause stretched between us.

“I think they’ve got it mostly right,” I said carefully.

His tongue wet his lower lip. “That’s ‘cause they’ve never had me cornered at midnight in a locked studio, have they?”

My stomach flipped. I shifted in my seat, pretending not to flinch at how wet his voice made me. “You think you’re cornering me?”

He grinned, slow and wicked. “Aren’t I?”

I cleared my throat again, heart pounding so loud I was afraid it’d be caught by the mic. “Let’s move on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Thought we were being honest.”

“I am,” I replied, voice tighter. “Honestly trying to stay focused.”

That earned a deep, warm laugh. “Alright. Your turn.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You ask honest questions. So do I. Your turn.”

“That’s not how interviews work.”

“Maybe not,” he murmured, “but that’s how I work.”

The air went still. I swallowed, hand tightening on my pen. “Fine. One question.”

He leaned in like he was settling in for a story, one arm draped over the back of his chair, shirt tugging across his chest. “Good girl.” My thighs clenched. I hoped he didn’t notice. “Why’d you agree to interview me alone tonight?” he asked.

My lips parted, but no words came out right away. His eyes didn’t waver. Neither did his smirk. I stared down at my notes, all the clever responses I’d rehearsed fading into useless dust.

“Because…” I said softly, “you make good content.”

He chuckled. “That all I make?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Do you flirt with all your interviewers, or am I just lucky?”

His eyes darkened. “You’re not lucky. You’re distracting.”

That shouldn’t have thrilled me. But it did. When I didn’t answer, he reached down and casually tugged his mic away. “Turn yours off,” he said quietly.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because what I want to say next isn’t meant for the public.”

I hesitated, finger hovering over the mute button on my mic. I flicked the switch. My mic light went dark. So did his. It was just us now.

He leaned forward again, forearms braced on the table. “I’ve been thinking about what your voice would sound like if I had my fingers inside you.”

My breath hitched. No warning. No teasing lead-up. Just—filth. Coated in that soft, velvety tone.

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Jesus,” I whispered.

Harry smirked. “Is that a yes?”

“You can’t just say shit like that.”

He leaned closer. “You didn’t say no.”

I stared at him. At the way his eyes dragged over my lips. The way his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. The way his ringed fingers flexed slowly against the edge of the table.

“What if someone comes in?” I asked, trying to stay grounded even as I shifted in my seat.

“They won’t.” He stood, slowly, circling the table. “You locked the door, remember?” I had. God, I had.

He stopped behind me, fingers grazing my shoulders, then drifting down my arms. My skin lit up, nerves dancing.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured near my ear. “You’re distracting. I couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth the moment I sat down.”

I exhaled shakily. “And now?”

His hands slid to my hips, guiding me to stand. “Now I’m wondering how soft you’ll sound when I make you come.”

I turned in his arms. Our chests brushed. He was warm. Broad. Smiling just slightly, but with heat simmering in his eyes.

My fingers curled in his shirt. “Are you always like this?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips over mine—barely there. “No. Just with you.”

That was the moment I gave in. I kissed him. Hard. Hungry. He groaned into my mouth, one hand fisting in my hair, the other dragging down the curve of my back to squeeze my ass. I gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding slow and sure against mine. He tasted like mint and something headier, something that made my knees weak.

“Table,” he murmured, breath ragged. “Sit.”

I stumbled back and boosted myself up, the cold wood shocking against my thighs as I hiked my dress up. Harry moved between my legs, fingers already tugging at the edge of my underwear.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered, eyes locked on mine as he dragged the lace down my thighs. “Is this all from me?”

I swallowed. Nodded.

“Fuck,” he breathed, dropping to his knees. “Let me taste it.”

My head tilted back, lips parting with a soft moan as his mouth met me—hot, wet, and filthy. His tongue worked slow circles at first, lazy and confident, then picked up pace as he spread my thighs wider and sucked on my clit. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. One hand anchored me on the table. The other threaded through his curls.

“Harry—”

He groaned at the sound of his name, then slid two fingers inside me.

My hips jerked. “Fuck—oh my god.”

He pumped them slowly, curling just right, his tongue relentless. Every sound I made, he answered with a moan like he loved it. Like he could come from this alone.

“Look at me,” he whispered against me. “Want to see your face when you fall apart.”

I lifted my head, eyes locking with his. That was it. I came hard, a choked cry breaking from my lips as I clenched around his fingers. He didn’t stop—kept licking, kept moving—until I was trembling, pushing weakly at his shoulder. Only then did he rise, licking his lips, eyes dark and blown out.

“You good, love?”

I nodded, chest rising and falling fast. “Holy fuck.”

He laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned in to kiss me again—slow this time, sweet.

“You’re not getting away with just that,” I whispered against his lips. “My turn.”

His breath caught. “Yeah?”

I slid off the table, dropped to my knees, and looked up at him.

“Take your time,” he said, voice strained. “I’m all yours.”

I unbuckled his belt slowly, my fingers steady despite the thrum of anticipation between my legs. He watched me—eyes low, chest rising and falling—his rings brushing through his hair as I tugged the button of his trousers open.

“You’re teasing me,” he murmured.

I looked up through my lashes. “Good.”

A dark chuckle left his lips. “Fucking hell.”

His cock was already hard beneath his briefs, the outline thick and heavy. I ran my fingers over him through the fabric, loving the way his hips pushed forward, subtle and hungry. When I slipped my hand beneath the waistband, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Pull it out, baby,” he whispered, voice thick. “Wanna see those pretty lips around it.”

God, he was filthy in the softest fucking tone. I freed him from his briefs—thick, flushed, the tip already wet with pre-cum. I wrapped my hand around the base and leaned in, dragging my tongue along the underside slowly, deliberately.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Just like that.”

I swirled my tongue around the tip, teasing him, tasting salt and heat. His fingers tightened in my hair, not pushing—just holding. Waiting. Watching.

“You’re killing me,” he muttered. “So fucking sexy on your knees.”

I moaned around him as I sank down further, letting him fill my mouth inch by inch. He groaned—deep, broken—and his hand tightened.

“Fuck, your mouth feels unreal.”

I bobbed my head slowly, keeping eye contact, loving how his jaw clenched and his brows drew together. When I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder, his hips jerked forward.

“Ah—shit. Baby. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

His voice cracked. His other hand braced against the edge of the table, rings clinking softly.

I pulled off for a moment, stroking him slowly with my hand. “You gonna come for me?”

His eyes were wild. “If you keep sucking me like that—yeah.”

I smirked, kissed the tip, and took him in again, this time deeper. Faster. His thighs trembled slightly. He let out a groan so filthy it echoed through the quiet studio.

“Such a good girl. Taking it so well. Fuck, you’re perfect—look at you.”

He started to move with me, fucking into my mouth with soft, shallow thrusts. I let him. Moaned around him. Loved the way he lost control.

And then he warned me—voice rough, almost broken. “Fuck—gonna come. You sure?”

I nodded, didn’t stop. Looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes. He came hard, gasping my name, spilling down my throat with a curse and a groan that sounded like it had been ripped straight from his soul. I swallowed. Every drop. Then pulled off with a soft pop. He stared down at me like I’d just ruined him.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, cupping my jaw as he leaned down. “You’re incredible.”

I smirked, licking my lips. “Good content, huh?”

He laughed, deep and breathless. “Best fucking episode of the season.”

Harry helped me to my feet, but the second I stood, he spun me around and pressed me back against the table, his chest warm against my back.

“You’re not done,” he murmured, voice low and rough in my ear. “You think you get to suck me off like that and not get ruined for it?”

I gasped when his hand slid between my legs, two fingers sliding through the mess he’d already made of me.

“Still this wet?” he growled. “Fuck.”

He dragged his fingers up to my mouth and tapped gently. I opened without hesitation, sucking them clean.

His breath hitched. “That’s it. Good girl.”

My dress was bunched at my waist, my panties already gone—somewhere near the mic cords, maybe. I didn’t care. Not when he was undoing his shirt behind me with shaking fingers and then stepping back in, bare chest pressed to my spine, cock already hardening again against my ass.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I walked in,” he whispered, lining himself up. “Bent over this fucking table… moaning for me.”

“Then do it,” I breathed. “Fuck me.”

He didn’t hesitate. One hard thrust, and I cried out, fingers gripping the edge of the table. He filled me completely—thick, deep, perfect—and didn’t give me time to adjust before pulling back and slamming in again.

“God—Harry—”

He wrapped a hand around my throat from behind, not tight—just holding me there, anchoring me in place.

“You like that?” he growled, fucking me harder now, pace brutal and steady. “You like being used like this?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes—don’t stop—please—”

The table creaked beneath us, my skin slapping against the wood in time with his thrusts. One of his hands came around to play with my clit, rubbing quick circles that had my vision going white.

“You gonna come for me again?” he asked, voice rough and breathless against my ear.

I nodded desperately. “I’m close—I’m so close—”

“Then let go. Give it to me.”

His pace didn’t let up—just kept driving into me with filthy, focused precision, until I shattered around him with a cry that echoed through the silent studio. He kept fucking me through it, chasing his own release now, his hand still on my throat, his cock thick and perfect inside me. When he came, it was with a broken groan of my name, slamming into me one final time and burying himself deep.

We stood there, breathless, shaking, skin slick with sweat. His hands softened, sliding down my body like he didn’t want to stop touching me.

“You alright?” he murmured against my neck.

I smiled, still catching my breath. “More than alright.”

His lips brushed my shoulder. “Think this episode needs a part two.”

*****

a short one this time guys 💕

[wcters]

SLUT !

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!singer!reader

summary: your boyfriends fans don’t like you very much, even before the relationship is confirmed

warnings/contents: swearing (obviously), slut shaming, hate, sexual innuendos (the songs ig?)

author’s note: faceclaim is nessa barrett, this is to my girl nessa cause i love her and she deserves no hate 🤍 anyway it’s a little late but go stream AFTERCARE ⭐️

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, user2, and 210,048 others

yourusername if you stream passenger princess ur hot 🫀🫀

view all 222 comments

user1 on my knees

user2 who is she and why is oscar here??

user3 oscar don’t associate with her 🤢

user4 streaming rn 💋

user5 she’s such a slut

user6 oscar don’t fall for her she’s a whore

y/nsource

liked by user1, user3, and 56,035 others

y/nsource y/n at her latest concert in melbourne, australia!

view all 134 comments

user1 MOMMY

user2 she shouldn’t be wearing that 😒

user3 did she play passenger princess?

↳ y/nsource she did!

user4 this is the girl oscar has been around?? 💀

user5 someone tell her to cover up

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, user1, and 108,964 others

yourusername australia you were amazing xx

view all 195 comments

user1 i liked lily better

user2 is it a coincidence that she releases passenger princess while she’s in australia, the place where oscar, an f1 driver, is from??

↳ user3 fbi’s calling 📞

user4 get out of australia and leave oscar alone 🤢🤢

user5 you were so good!!! loved seeing you

↳ yourusername 😚

user6 you need to eat some food

f1gossip

liked by user1, user3, and 128,893 others

f1gossip oscar piastri seen with singer y/n y/l/n in melbourne, australia, after her show during her ongoing tour.

view all 154 comments

user1 dude does not deserve to be with someone as nasty as her

user2 oscar get away!!!!

user3 stop hating on my girl 😭😭

user4 she looks gross

user5 my girl looks hot 🥵

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, user1, and 285,023 others

yourusername my album AFTERCARE is out now !!!!! i’m overwhelmed with pride and so many other emotions. thank you to everyone who worked with me on this album, i cannot thank you enough.

and to that one special person, you know who you are, thank you for your unwavering support for me and for believing in me, believing in myself. love you xoxo

view all 234 comments

user1 haters kicking themselves rn

user2 all of her songs are so sexual…

user3 STARGIRL ⭐️⭐️

oscarpiastri 🤍

user4 NO OSCAR

user5 no skip album 🖤

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 721,624 others

oscarpiastri to my passenger princess ❤️ no one else i’d rather be with

view all 363 comments

yourusername i can’t thank you enough o xx

user1 okay they’re cute

user2 my girl and her boy

user3 i’m happy for him if he’s happy

user4 Y’ALL SWITCHED UP SO FAST

landonorris very cute you two

user5 still think she’s not good for him

[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303 @mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @paybacksawitch

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”

“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

[livingdeadmlm]

you’re singlehandedly feeding the gay rdr2 community AND protecting the lesbians??? hell yeah!1!1!

my first time requesting something… how would the men react to a single father user with a mischievous kid? Probably someone new to the gang or just a stranger they bump into who they find interesting!! :)) i crave domestic life sighhhh.

I adore lesbians! I’m friends with plenty and growing up there was the same amount of lesbian couples as straight couples around me lol! I think my town has a concentrated amount of lesbians tbh can’t walk two feet without seeing a pair of Butches or Studs walking together hand in hand, it’s beautiful.

VDLG with a Singer Father Reader

But to headcannons! I made the reader a dilf cause I'm weak and here is some background :P!

In the story of Red Dead Online, Sean gets separated from the gang for a little bit. One day, he wanders into some woods and finds your cabin. He considers robbing it, but when he sees that not only do you have a kid, but you are a looker! So he needs to play his cards right and not fuck this up.

He gets to know you, saying that he's lost and needs some help! You let him stay in the area, allowing him to set up camp outside, but to your surprise, he ends up being sorta handy around the cabin. He is mostly doing chores to impress you, which your kid has picked up on and decided to mess with Sean.

You asked him to sweep up the cabin while you worked in the basement. When your kid suddenly comes running in with muddy shoes, now it looks like he did nothing! Your kid also thinks it's funny to dump out his beer when he's not looking, so he goes through it much faster than normal.

But he's willing to deal with it because when you're around, the kid is a sweetheart. And eventually, you let him stay inside later and later, but one night, as he's setting up camp by the fire, a familiar face approaches.

"English, what the hell are yew doin' here?!" Arthur had heard about a cabin far into the woods that allegedly was sitting on gold. He and Sean bickered for a bit before you came out with a shotgun and demanded to know what was going on.

Arthur was out there because he was told you were a moonshiner, and the gang wanted to form a bond with you. And a bond was formed from that day on!

You'd now and then stop by the camp with moonshine to sell, letting your kid join you to make friends with Jack and feel less alone as a child.

You made them a good chunk of change, and man, did they like having you around.

A great piece of eye candy, and you were a good dad. Nothing more attractive than that.

Hosea and Dutch love watching the kid, if you ever need someone to look after them. If you look at the right time, you can see Dutch crouched, whispering to the kid about prank ideas to pull on the people in camp. These are usually harmless things like moving someone's belongings or chasing Sean around with a bug or a lizard.

Your kid learned that if they were caught red-handed, if they ran behind Dutch or Hosea, whatever adult was chasing them would relent and let it go.

Hosea teaches them how to read if they don't already know. He also often spoils them with treats and small toys when he's around.

He really admires your efforts to make a good life for the kid, even if your ways of making money aren't the safest, but he wasn't one to talk.

Arthur also really admires you. If anything, he sort of avoided getting close to you at first because it hurt his chest to see the sweet moments you had with your kid.

Like when it got late and the two of you were due to head home, and you'd pick up your kid, and they'd fall asleep in your arms. But when he's stopping by your cabin one day, and his hat goes missing, he worries. But he hears your kid giggling, and some part of him melts.

He thinks it's so cute that your kid feels safe enough to mess with him, even if it drives him crazy to chase the little monster around after they've stolen his hat for the 3rd time while you weren't looking.

You stepped in when your kid was messing around, like when your kid and Jack were throwing little pebbles at Kieran. You didn't know his past, but you were stern when you told your kid you never throw rocks at anyone, and they had to apologize.

Kieran's heart nearly burst when you also said sorry and offered a hug. All the older men he knows are mean, but now here you are, with salt and pepper hair, crow's feet around your eyes, he's swooning.

Javier and Charles don't take to you as fast as everyone else, never really getting the chance to know you until your kid falls fast asleep by the fire, and they're the only two around.

Both of them have a similar heartache to Arthur, but it's because their own fathers weren't good men. You dance around with your kid and cheer them on when they're practicing handwriting with you and Hosea.

You join them and bring them bottles of shine that you specially made. They think it's adorable how you genuinely try to make good-tasting shine and practically beam with joy as people try new flavor fusions.

John pretty much loves you from the start.

Providing moonshine for free for the gang, making it taste not like straight rubbing alcohol, and being willing to listen to his complaining, he's holding back getting on you right here and now.

But your kid drives him insane. You're so calm and pleasant, but your kid likes to pick a fight and then act like nothing happened. It's dumb things as well, like filling his pockets with rocks while he's passed out drunk on your shoulder.

Occasionally, they all stop by your cabin for a day or two to just rest.

They all like to pretend that when they wake up on your couch, you make them coffee in the morning, that this is their normal now. They don't have to leave and be back on the run soon

[azulpitlane]

got love stuck part 3 please i’m begging it’s so good i need it

out of the woods I ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: in which lando has to communicate his insecurities but is he too late? notes: ask and you shall receive, this one took a while cause I had it all written out then I hated it and started over😇but this is the last part!! i loved making this thank u for being so supportive considering part one was my first ever post!! now send some requests hehe part one, part two, masterlist

lando i fucked up, its too late

danny ric what do you mean its too late?

lando i texted her and no response she went to dinner with mason tonight they're probably still together right now

danny ric okay so you're jumping into conclusions AGAIN you have to have some faith in her mate and stop assuming the worst

lando she was with her ex after our breakup what am I suppose to do?

danny ric communicate, you muppet you can't just give up after one try

lando okay okay you're right, i was overthinking im booking the next flight to london

danny ric um i was thinking maybe a phone call?

lando too late, already booked it

dailymail

102,339 likes

dailymail Trouble in paradise? Singer Y/n Y/l/n and F1 driver Lando Norris reunited in London today. Onlookers claim the two were having a heated conversation about their relationship and it is unclear whether the two are currently together or not. Was this argument result of Y/l/n's infidelity? The singer was spotted twice within this month with ex boyfriend, Mason Mount. Read more on the singer's relationship timeline with Mount and Norris in our article linked in the bio.

view all comments

user yes lets just make assumptions that y/n is a cheater based on nothing🙄

user if lando took her back ill be so mad. shes so toxic

user you have no idea what shes like in real life? you're just basing your opinion on some stupid tabloid that constantly spreads misinformation on her

user WAR IS OVER (THEYRE STILL TOGETHER IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS).

user YUP Y/N AND LANDO DEFENDER TIL I DIE user SAME IM CONVINCED SHE NEVER CHEATED IDC IDC

user this doesn't even look like a heated argument to me?? y'all be doing too much

user please let this be just a friendly conversation and her and mason got back together☹️

user its been a year, I think its time to move on from that relationship user yup!! shes clearly moved on y'all need to do it too user her relationship with lando has been messy from the start, she never had to deal with this drama with mason that's all im sayin

user this page is obsessed with y/n!! leave my girl aloneeee

yourusername

liked by landonorris, masonmount and 5,283,239 others

yourusername out of the woods out now.

view all comments

selenagomez on repeat already💙 liked by yourusername

user WAIT WHOS THE GUY IN THE LAST SLIDE

user HAS TO BE LANDO user praying its mase but I have a feeling its lando☹️

user the way these lyrics can apply to both mason or lando so we have no clue who its about🧍‍♀️

user and they both liked aghhhh!!!!

danielricciardo amazing song, so so proud liked by yourusername

francisca.cgomes can't stop listening im obsessed😍 liked by yourusername

user okay danny and the wags are all commenting this is a good sign for us lando and y/n defenders

alexandrasaintmleux you're so talented I love it!! liked by yourusername

user y/n dropping this after being seen with lando again, I think its time for us mason defenders to retire :(

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 920,482 others

landonorris want you for worse or for better, would wait forever and ever tagged yourusername

view all comments

user YES WE CAN FINALLY SAY WAR IS OVER

user I KNEW IT YES

yourusername and that's how it works💙

user these are definitely song lyrics AHHHH user landos listened to the new album omfsgnks user new album is gonna be mix of love and breakup songs with the drama methinks

user MOM AND DAD ARE DONE FIGHTING

maxfewtrell sap

user careful lando, once a cheater always a cheater

user where is the proof of her cheating?? there literally is none user they literally broke up after she was seen with mason user give up this narrative already!! her and lando are clearly happy together so who cares

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 7,284,234 others

yourusername these past few weeks have felt like a crazy, emotional train wreck but there's nobody else I would've rather done it with than my best friend and lover💙 i usually never address anything like this but there are somethings that aren't easy to shake off especially when it comes to my relationship and my loyalty being questioned. there has never been somebody who has been so perfect for me and i would never trade this love for anybody elses. i could go on and on about it but i find it easier to communicate through music.

my new album is out tonight at midnight, it is a collection of songs written from last year to now. interpret the songs as you like but just know there is only one person im in love with right now.

view all comments

user OMFG WEVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

user she just nicely told all mason x y/n supporters to stfu

user not only that but she beat the cheater allegations🙏

user THIS IS SO CUTE WHAT

user "would never trade this love for anybody elses" IMCRYIN

landonorris love you so so much, dont know what I would do without you

yourusername lan love u more🥹 user AWWW user nobody can be a mason x y/n fan after this cause they are too cute

landonorris this album is amazing, im so incredibly proud of you and everything you've been through liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 very excited for this one liked by yourusername

masonmount this was very well said, congrats on the new album!! liked by yourusername

user OMG? user in their besties era omdfsnkln user I knew they were just friends through all this!!!

user okay officially retiring the mason x y/n agenda..it was a good run

user def the end of an era but our girl is happy🫶

user now that the drama is over can we focus on how good this album is gonna be

user fr the drought is officially over

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff and 3,232,325 others

yourusername the love for my new album has been insane, thank you guys so much!! so many records broken just on the first day of the release and i couldn't have done it without you guys💙

now it is time to hibernate for a little bit and spend some much needed time off with my loved ones so this is a lil goodbye... for now!

see ya later

view all comments

user NO COME BACK

user gave us some lando content before dipping, thank u mother

user she took 'I know places we won't be found' to a whole different level because nobody can find out where theyre vacationing

user good!! they need some privacy after this messy drama

landonorris got you all to myself now

maxfewtrell gross yourusername perv

kellypiquet ❤️‍🩹 liked by yourusername

user but will we see you at the paddock next season🥹

yourusername ofc!! catch me rooting for my babyyy

user what a crazy era. hopefully well get some performances and lando supporting after this break

landonorris will be front row at every show user wag and rockstar's bf. try not to say parents challenge omg user can't wait for the content of them supporting each other at races and concerts ahhh

yourbff pls dont make me an auntie soon im too young

yourusername okay im officially logging off.

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77@landowecanbewc

[1980slemasters]

Hi! Can you write a Dylan x female reader where the reader is the lead singer and plays guitar in her own band and shes been working late into the night trying to finish a song and Dylan gets worried abt how shes overworking herself trying to finish the song?

thank you for sending this request in!! i really enjoyed writing this one and i hope you enjoy reading it! <3

—

overworked

pairing: dylan x reader

summary: you’d been working late to finish a song for your own band and dylan worries you’re overworking yourself

warnings: none

word count: 1.9k

✩ ✩ ✩

It was the fifth night this had happened. The fifth night that Dylan was lying in bed, an empty space beside him that you would usually occupy.

With you being in your own band, Dylan understood you had songs to write, music ideas to get out onto paper. But he was starting to worry that you were pushing yourself too far with the late hours you were working into.

Two hours ago, you told Dylan that you’d finish up for the night soon. However, you kept working, too focused on trying to get this song finished.

Dylan let you work, knowing that if he interrupted at an important moment that it could throw off your whole creative process.

So, he didn’t. He sighed as he looked at the time ticking away on the clock on your nightstand, just hoping that you’d come to bed soon.

It took him longer than normal, but Dylan managed to get to sleep.

He was thankful the next morning when he woke up to your arms loosely around his waist, the sound of your soft breathing coming from behind him.

He cautiously shuffled to lay facing you, hugging you closer to him so he could hold you for a while before having to start his day.

Dylan rubbed his hands up and down your back, tracing light patterns through the fabric of your shirt which caused you to stir slightly.

He leaned back as he felt you move, tucking your hair behind your ears as you slowly blinked your eyes open. A soft smile growing as you saw him.

“Morning, baby,” he spoke quietly. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good,” you yawned before continuing. “What’s the time?”

“Almost 10:30,” Dylan answered your question. “What time did you come to bed?”

You rolled onto your back, running your hands through your messy hair before thinking about answering.

“After I finished getting some lyrics written down.”

Dylan reached for your hand, holding it in his softly, “you’ve done that a few nights in a row now,” concern was laced in his tone. You looked over at him. “I don’t like you staying up so late, you’re gonna tire yourself out.”

“I’m fine, Dyl,” you tried to reassure. “Just really wanna get this song finished.”

You sat yourself up in bed while still holding Dylan’s hand, looking down at him softly.

Of course you always appreciated him looking out for you, and maybe he was right. Maybe you were working too late each night.

But you needed this song done. Your band needed this song to be done.

“Well, I need to get ready for our writing session,” you leaned down to Dylan, kissing him softly before getting up.

Dylan was happy you were having this writing session with your band today. He thought it would help you get some more lyrics down rather than you staying up late at night.

He was sure you’d have it done soon. This song was practically consuming your life at this very moment.

He’d always been proud of you, proud of your work, proud of how well you had been doing with singing and playing instruments as well as having your own shows.

It was when you seemed exhausted that he didn’t like.

The times you’d come home from writing or recording and were overly tired. The nights when you’d stay up into the early hours to get songs finished.

And especially the times you came home seeming defeated, when sessions hadn’t gone as you would’ve liked them to.

But he was always there to support you no matter what. He loved you and you knew that. He always showed that.

He decided that today he would surprise you with a little something once you got home, knowing you might appreciate that after a long day of hard work.

Unfortunately, you weren’t in the happy mood he expected you to be in when you walked through the door.

Shoulders slouched, tired eyes, you looked exhausted. As if you could’ve gone to sleep right that second.

Dylan approached you slowly as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the floor next to them, your jacket following soon after.

“Baby?” Dylan placed his hand on your shoulder.

You turned to him, finally smiling for what felt like the first time in hours. You immediately hugged him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Bad day?” He asked.

You nodded your head, “nothing went right,” you audibly sighed. “We argued over what music sounded better with the lyrics and... it just didn't go as planned."

“I’m sorry,” Dylan stepped back, taking your hands in his. “I did make you some dinner though.”

“You did?” Your face lit up.

He pulled you in the direction of the kitchen where he had a pot on the stove, a cover over the top to keep whatever he’d cooked warm. It smelled delicious.

It was some spaghetti, simple, but he knew you’d like it. He began to dish it out as you stood with him, sprinkling some cheese over the top of it after.

You both sat in the living room to eat your dinner, watching some tv at the same time.

After you were done, you helped Dylan to clear everything up. Washing the dishes while he dried them and put them away in the correct spaces.

And then it was time for bed.

Dylan was surprised that you were coming up to bed at the same time as him. The first time in days that this had happened.

After getting ready to go to sleep, you were laying in bed with Dylan. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you against him.

“Can you believe I’m going to bed so early?” You joked, yawning at the same time.

“You deserve the rest,” Dylan kissed your cheek softly. “Especially after all the work you’ve been doing on your song.”

It was quiet for a moment, just enjoying Dylan holding you like this before you spoke again.

“Think we can get breakfast in the morning?”

“That’ll be nice,” Dylan agreed.

Not long after that, you were saying goodnight to each other. Closing your eyes to drift off to sleep to get some rest.

The fact you went to sleep with Dylan, was the exact reason why he was so confused when he woke up with the bed empty beside him the next morning.

He’d woken up early, the light only just seeping through the blinds, but it was too quiet. It didn’t sound like you were in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a drink.

Where had you gone?

Dylan took a breath as he got up out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he felt tired from only just waking up.

He made his way downstairs. Not finding you in the kitchen, you weren’t in the living room.

He realised what room was left. Your music room. The room you worked in, where you wrote your songs, where you played guitar.

Dylan walked down the hall, pushing the door open slowly to peep his head inside. And… there you were.

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over, head resting on the hard table as you slept.

There was a piece of paper and a pen next to where your head was laying. Lots of scribbles and crosses on the page where you must have been trying out different lyrics.

Dylan sighed. He didn’t like seeing you like this. So stressed over this song. You were obviously overworking yourself and he needed to get through to you before you made yourself sick.

He leaned down beside you, brushing your hair out of your face and back behind your ear. He didn’t want to wake you, but he at least wanted you to be a little bit more comfortable while you slept.

Rushing to the living room, he grabbed the blanket you kept there, bringing it back to where you were.

He cautiously draped it over you, wanting you to be warm enough until you woke up in a few hours.

Before he left the room, he kissed the top of your head, quietly walking away after.

A few hours later, Dylan was up again, before you had woken up. He got up, made some coffee, and thankfully, you did wake up in the middle of him doing so.

As you woke up, you felt the blanket around you. Slightly unaware of your surroundings. You didn’t realise you’d fallen asleep in here.

At the same moment, Dylan had made his way over to the room you were in. Two cups of coffee in hand. He saw you were awake now.

“Hey, sleepy head,” he waited for you to look over at him before he said anything else. “Wondered where you were earlier.”

“Yea, I’m sorry, I don’t even remember falling asleep down here.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “I uh, made some coffee.”

You thanked him with a smile, taking the cup from him to sip some of it. You both placed the coffees down on your desk, it now being quiet.

It was obvious Dylan had something on his mind. He would usually ask how you slept, or ask if you wanted breakfast, but instead he was silent.

He finally locked eyes with you, and that’s when you knew it was the moment he’d start talking.

He cleared his throat. “I’m worried about you.”

“Dyl, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he reached over, taking one of your hands in his. “You’ve been up late multiple nights this week trying to finish this song.”

He paused, thinking of how to put things, “and now I wake up today to find you asleep down here,” he looked to your price of paper. “I know you want to get this song finished, but you can’t keep overworking yourself like this, baby.”

You looked down, knowing he was right. Maybe as the lead singer of your band, you felt responsible for getting your song finished as soon as possible.

When in reality, you didn’t need to rush it. It didn’t need to be finished right away. You had way more time than you were giving yourself to get it done.

“I just had this great idea, for this song,” you quietly explained. “I hyped it up, and made it sound like I could have it done by next week.”

“But…”

“But, I’m nowhere near finished,” you pushed the paper towards Dylan. “Everything I write… nothing sounds right and I don’t know why.”

Dylan read over the lyrics that were written, it didn’t sound bad in his eyes. He could see the crossed out lines though, knowing you weren’t getting the lyric ideas that you wanted.

“You should take a break for a few days at least,” he suggested, squeezing your hand reassuringly in his. “They aren’t expecting it to be done quickly, that’s not always how song writing works.”

“I know,” you mumbled.

Dylan shuffled closer to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your cheek a few times.

“Think you can take time away from writing to get breakfast?” He asked. “Maybe you’ll find some inspiration from eating chocolate chip pancakes.”

You nodded your head, “definitely,” you leaned back from him slightly, running a hand through his hair.

“Please just try not to overwork yourself so much,” he cupped your face in his left hand. “You’re a great writer, but your best work will come after you get a good amount of sleep each night.”

Dylan kissed you softly, you smiled after, “breakfast and then maybe I’ll catch up on some sleep when we get home?”

“You deserve it,” he stood up, pulling you with him. “A day of food and rest, sounds good doesn’t it?”

“Especially since it’s with you,” you pulled him in for one last hug. “Thank you for talking some sense into me, I love you.”

“Always,” Dylan held you that little bit tighter. “I love you too.”

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hypnotizedstarkey @jjunebug | if you would like to join my wallows taglist, please comment here or see this post

[lovelaetter]

https://youtu.be/T9uQzj1-I5k?si=tQzcmpNYzVy3cDQs i cant get over how good she looks lately but THIS interview i’m actually foaming at the mouth

aside from loving the concept of her being so open about past relationships…the sick part of me is obsessed with the idea of rosie being in a toxic relationship because it just fits her so well. i can imagine her in a situationship but not being able to detach because 1) she’s needy and attatched, and 2) gets fucked right so its worth it.

i just want her to cry and yell in my face, throwing stuff around, literally going batshit crazy just for her to come back in a week to say sorry with *that* look on her face to get her pussy stuffed, craving your fingers or getting dicked down (g!p) cause she “can’t do it herself.”

on-and-off relationships with her, being possessive and controlling over her when she’s in different cities - whether its for her little ysl shows, or music promotions, asking who she's with, adding in a certain comment about the skin she shows, acting like she hates it but deep down knows she loves being your fixation cuz it feeds her ego lol

loving being mean to her because she knows how to take it (and *other* things) and sometimes getting an earful back, just for both of you to end up in bed tearing each other apart. like, you getting upset about her writing a song in her album, calling you out subtly on your guys' relationship, fighting in the studio in front of her team, 'embarrassing' her just for kick everyone out so you can fuck right then and there because seeing you angry gets her feeling a way oops maybe i just like arguing - 🥀

😵‍💫😵‍💫

okay but what if: you also being someone in the industry, not necessarily a singer, could an actress, a director, a writer, just both sides being put out there by you and being equally messy, you know, equal rights and people love being nosy and everyone is like this is the worst relationship ever but the next day there’s an article saying how you got back together and people simply can’t be on anyone’s side, you both are the worst !!

look, i don’t have a thing for cheating, i hate it actually, awful thing, but it’s fitting here, let’s be real. her going full taylor swift and admitting on cheating on you on her album? exactly. the drama, just sitting in her room waiting for your call or worse, for you to bang at her door mad as fuck but instead you just text her like “okay girl i fucked someone too so what lol” BUT THE THING IS you are mad, yes, you cheated, but you ARE mad and playing it cool and now so is she and it triggers this week long ass fight that culminates in, not joking, weekend long sex, the type your agent calls you because you have schedule to follow and you pick it up just to tell them to fuck off, change of plans, more important things showed up— blondie on your door looking so pissed but also wearing the most “visiting my not-so-ex-girlfriend-we-complicated to scream some facts at her but also let her know i need to feel her deep inside me” outfit she could find. and the thing you said about controlling her? omg, doing it here, the subject the discussion you are having quickly changing once you take a proper look at whatever she’s wearing with a “and what the fuck is that?” and her being sooo entitled saying “well, i have places to be” and it’s like “you do?” “yeah” “yeah?” “uh-hm” until you are already too close to her and she has nowhere to run once your hands get on her like she’s a doll. you actually loved her outfit, she looks so hot as always, and deep down you know she did it just for you… but you simply wouldn’t let her win this game.

her people probably would think she is dead or something during all weekend unless they are smart enough to contact someone that works with you because she would tell her manager oh i’m visiting someone and just leave and they wouldn’t be able to reach her as the whole time her phone is inside her bag turned off and she’s busy laying belly down with her pretty face being into the pillows and spread out, moaning and crying out for you to (not) give her holes a break, pussy leaking around four fingers and pushing up every time you tease her little asshole.

sex so good it has you apologizing to each other by the end, hands between the other’s thighs, her mouth on your tits, awkwardly muttering “sorry” against your skin.

[biblical-chronicles]

Fan-service

______________________________________________________

where Noel is so starstruck by the reader, that he can't even let a word out, especially as she presses against him to finally nail a riff that has been stuck in her head.

______________________________________________________

Oasis had been locked in the studio all week, grinding through new material. The days were dragging, and while Noel Gallagher could usually power through long sessions with determination, something had been throwing him off his rhythm lately. He sat hunched over his guitar, strumming idly while scribbling down half-finished lyrics, though his mind clearly wasn’t on the task at hand.

Across the room, Liam leaned casually against the wall, cigarette in hand, watching his older brother with a sly grin. “You’ve been well quiet lately,” Liam started, his voice cutting through the low hum of the amps. “Bit out of character, innit? Normally, you’re banging on about summat well boring by now.”

Noel shot him a look but didn’t reply, his focus stubbornly staying on his guitar.

“Oh, I get it now.” Liam smirked, dragging on his cigarette. “You’re thinkin’ about her, ain’t ya?”

At this, Noel’s fingers faltered on the strings. He didn’t say a word, but the slight stiffening of his shoulders was all Liam needed.

“Bloody hell, this is gold!” Liam’s laugh echoed through the room, and he gestured at Noel with his cigarette. “Our kid’s gone soft over that singer. What’s her name again? That band you’re always harping on about like some lovesick twat?”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel snapped, his voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment.

“You’re always goin’ on about how talented she is, how her voice is, what’d you say, proper angelic?” Liam snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s tragic, mate. Well tragic.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Noel muttered, shaking his head as if it could physically remove the topic from existence.

“Well, you better sort it out, ‘cause they’re booked in the next studio soon, yeah?” Liam’s grin widened as he pointed out what Noel had been dreading. “She’s gonna be right down the hall. What’re you gonna do then, eh? Gonna spend the next few weeks hiding in the bogs every time she walks by?”

“Why don’t you do one and focus on something useful for once?” Noel barked, clearly over it.

“ooh touchy touchy aren't we, alright” said Liam holding up his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “Just don’t come crying to me when she don’t even know you exist, mate.” He gave Noel one last pointed look before wandering off, still chuckling to himself.

A week later, the studio was buzzin with sound as your band arrived to record your new album. You’d barely had time to catch your breath with how fast things had been moving lately—gigs, interviews, and now this—but it was all part of the ride.

The first few days in the studio were a mix of excitement and frustration as you worked to fine-tune the tracks. Things were going well, but one song in particular was giving you trouble. The chorus needed something—a riff, a hook—but no matter how hard you and your band tried, nothing seemed to fit.

After hours of tinkering with no breakthrough, you decided to call it a night. “You lot head off,” you told your bandmates as they packed up their gear. “I’ll grab a bite and lock up.”

They nodded, wishing you goodnight as they headed out. Left alone, you wandered into the small kitchen area of the building, rummaging through the sparse offerings until you settled on a rather sad-looking snack. You leaned against the counter, chewing absentmindedly, humming away, when the melody suddenly hit you.

It was perfect. It tied the whole chorus together in your head, and you immediately knew that you couldn’t risk losing it. Tossing the wrapper in the bin, you rushed back down the corridor towards the studio room, humming the notes under your breath so you wouldn’t forget.

Reaching the door, you realized with a groan that it was locked. “Fuck,” you muttered, tugging at the handle uselessly. Of course your bandmates locked the room up on their way out.

You stood there for a moment, wracking your brain for a solution. That’s when you heard it—a faint melody drifting down the hall.

Following the sound, you found yourself in front of a door with “Oasis” scrawled on the sign. For a brief moment, nerves fluttered in your stomach. You’d heard the stories, seen the interviews - the Gallagher brothers weren’t exactly known for being approachable. But the riff was all you could think about, and with no time to hesitate, you pushed the door open.

Inside, the band had just finished playing a song, the final notes still humming in the air. Four pairs of eyes turned to you as you stepped in, looking a bit out of place but determined nonetheless.

“Hi,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the sudden silence. “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh... would you mind if I borrowed a guitar for a sec? I’ve got this riff stuck in me head, and I need to get it down before I forget.”

Nobody said a word, the room was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of their amps. You shifted awkwardly, wondering if you’d made a mistake.

“Everyone alright? Or did I walk in at a bad time?” you joked, laughing nervously.

Finally, Liam broke the silence, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. I’m sure Noel won’t mind you borrowing his gear. He’s a big fan.” He turned to his brother and not-so-subtly jabbed him in the ribs.

Noel, however, looked like he might spontaneously combust at any moment now. His face turned a deep shade of red as he opened his mouth to respond but found no words. Instead, he just sat there, gripping his guitar like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

The sight sent Liam into a small fit of laughter, and it wasn’t long before the rest of the band joined in. You stood there, thoroughly confused but trying not to let it show.

“Right,” you said slowly, glancing at Liam, who was practically doubled over, already in the process of nudging Noel again. “Well, maybe don’t knock your guitarist out while you’re at it. He’s important to the band, isn’t he? And, he's kinda cute too, would be a shame to lose him.”

That only made things worse. Noel somehow managed to turn an even darker shade of red, his face now matching the hue of his knit. Liam was in hysterics at this point, the rest of the band not being far behind.

You glanced at Noel again, noticing the wide-eyed, slightly panicked expression that hadn’t left his face. His grip on the guitar seemed to tighten, and his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Okay,” you said, trying to suppress a smile as you addressed the room. “He might be broken or summat, but listen, I really need to get this riff out before it slips away from me.”

Before anyone could respond, you walked over to Noel and, without much thought, slid your arms around him to reach the guitar. He froze completely, every muscle in his body going stiff as you gently moved his hands to make room for yours on the neck of the instrument.

“Right, let’s see if this works,” you muttered, focused on the notes in your head. You began plucking at the strings, slowly piecing together the melody as Noel sat motionless beneath you. Your body pressed lightly against his as you leaned over him to reach the frets, completely oblivious to the utter chaos you were causing in his head.

Behind you, Liam’s laughter hit a new level. “You seeing this?” he wheezed, looking around at the rest of the band, who were also struggling to keep their composure. “Our Noel! He’s gone, mate. Completely gone.”

The room erupted into more laughter, but you couldn't hear it, too focused on the riff. Yet, you could feel Noel shifting slightly under you, as if he were trying to sink into the floor.

Finally, you played the last few notes, the riff clicking perfectly into place. “That’s it,” you said, grinning as you let the final chord ring out. “Bloody hell, I’m glad I got that down.”

You leaned closer to Noel’s ear, whispering a quick, “Thanks for this. You’re a lifesaver.”

It wasn’t until you pulled back that you noticed just how red Noel’s face was. His skin was practically glowing, and his eyes had this dazed, glassy look as he stared blankly ahead. You couldn’t help but smile, the pieces finally starting to click into place.

“Well, I should probably head off now,” you said, stepping back from Noel and addressing the room. “Thanks for letting me steal your guitarist for a bit. I really appreciate it—and I’d love to hang out properly sometime with you lot. We’ll all be stuck here for weeks, yeah?”

The rest of the band nodded, offering their goodbyes and complimenting your career so far.

As you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you, you could still hear the faint sound of Liam cackling. You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you started walking toward the main exit.

You didn’t get far before the door burst open behind you.

“Noel wants a private meet-and-greet!” Liam’s voice rang out, his laughter following soon after as he all but dragged his older brother into the hallway by the ear.

You turned to find Noel half-protesting, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite decide what to say. Liam, on the other hand, was clearly having the time of his life, practically bouncing on his feet with glee.

“Well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you crossed your arms. “Is that true, Noel?”

Noel opened his mouth, presumably to deny everything, but Liam cut in before he could speak. “Go on, mate. Tell her how you feel. Or d’you need me to spell it out for ya?”

“Piss off, Liam,” Noel grumbled, his voice finally returning, though his usual confidence was still nowhere to be found.

“Nah, I’ll leave you to it,” Liam said, grinning as he turned back toward the studio. “But don’t think I won’t come back if you bottle it.” With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving you and Noel alone in the hallway.

You tilted your head, studying Noel with an amused expression. “Alright, what’s this all about, then? What’s he on about?”

Noel rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you. “It’s... it’s nothin’. He’s just taking the piss, per usual.”

“Didn’t seem like nothin’ to me,” you said, stepping closer. “Come on, Noel. Spit it out. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Look... I’m a big fan of yours, alright? I think you’re brilliant—your voice, your songwriting, the lot of it. And, uh... maybe I fancy you a little, or whatever.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “Is that so? Well, I’m flattered, really.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes. “It’s probably weird, me sayin’ all this.”

“Not weird at all,” you assured him, pulling him into a hug. “And for the record, I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

His head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. “You serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said with a grin, though you couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Though I can’t promise I won’t tell everyone about how red your face went earlier.”

“Not funny,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin burned under your lips, and when you pulled back, you noticed how dazed he looked. Something about the moment felt too perfect to pass up, so you decided to close the gap again—this time pressing your lips fully to his.

Noel stiffened for just a moment before melting into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist, tugging you firmly against him. The heat between you was immediate, as your fingers brushed along his jawline, tracing the scruff there before burying themselves in his hair. When you tugged gently, a low groan escaped him, his breath hitching audibly as he deepened the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening possessively.

His hands grew bolder, one sliding down to the curve of your hip while the other trailed up the small of your back, his fingers skimming the fabric as if itching to touch bare skin. The pressure of his hold sent a shiver through you, and you pressed yourself closer, your body molding against his in a way that left no space between you.

The kiss turned hungrier, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that sent sparks racing down your spine. His hands weren’t still for a moment, one sliding just beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare lower back, the other venturing up your side, his thumb grazing tantalizingly close to your bra clasp.

With a subtle shift, Noel pressed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body following to keep you pinned there. You felt his fingers grip your shirt, bunching the fabric like he needed something to ground him, though the way his lips never left yours suggested he was perfectly content losing himself entirely. Your hands roamed freely now—one still tugging at his hair while the other drifted down to the broad expanse of his chest.

Then, as though driven by instinct, he hooked one of your legs around his hip, his hand sliding down to your thigh to hold it in place. The new position pressed you even closer together, your body arching into his as his lips never left yours.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands tightening in his hair and pulling him even deeper into the kiss. His grip on your thigh was firm, his fingers digging in slightly as though to steady both of you. His lips trailed to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed a line down to your neck, his teeth grazing ever so slightly.

"Christ," he muttered against your skin, his voice huskier than usual, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "You’re gonna be the death of me"

You grinned, breathless, your thumb tracing the outline of his cheek as you whispered back, "Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?"

Before either of you could take it further, a familiar voice rang out from the hallway.

"Oi! I see the meet-and-greet’s come with some extra fan service!"

You both froze. Noel’s head snapped up, his face going a deeper shade of red than you thought humanly possible. You turned toward the doorway to find Liam standing there, leaning casually against the frame with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Honestly, Noel," Liam continued, his voice dripping with mockery, "you’re supposed to ask for an autograph, not sexual favours."

Noel scrambled to put your leg down, his hands leaving you so fast it was almost comical, though he kept his body angled slightly in front of yours as if to shield you from Liam’s teasing.

"Fuck right off, Liam!" Noel barked, his voice sharp but his face still burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning around Noel to flash Liam a cheeky grin. "Well, it’s good to know you’re keeping an eye out for your brother."

"Oh, don’t worry, love," Liam said, crossing his arms. "I’ll keep this one on a leash from now on. Can’t have him getting any more ideas."

As Liam sauntered away, you turned back to Noel, biting your lip to stifle a laugh. "Well," you said softly, brushing a thumb along his jaw, "I guess we’ll definitely need to thank your brother for that."

Noel groaned, shaking his head, but the small grin tugging at his lips told you he wasn’t entirely upset.

______________________________________________________

@shes-thunderstormssss this request was so fucking biblical, I just have to tag you, you lot please thank this absolute legend for it. Hopefully it meets your expectations, I just thought it’d be well more fun if the whole band had a laugh and tortured Noel a bit, get him proper flustered x

I proper enjoyed writin’ this, probably more than I should’ve, was expecting to have it done by tomorrow afternoon but here ya go me biblical skill knows no boundaries. Feel free to bombard me inbox with new requests, or yer apple pie recipes I don't give a toss, just love interacting with you lot xx

[linaslore]

h.s. | short n’ sweet (ig au) | part 2

sabrinacarpenter!reader x harry styles.

part 1

warnings: language, haters commeting, some details may not be accurate, english is not my first language. credits to the pics' owners.

🚫don’t copy, translate or put my work thru an AI.

liked by ynsalbums, taylorswift, harrystyles and others.

yourusername the waiting has finally come to an end. short n’ sweet out now! ☕💋 please please go check it out 🙏 hope you like it :)

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harrystyles it’s amazing!

yourusername thank you, h!🩵 ynrry h?? omg she has a nickname for him 😍 harryxyn and he was the first one to comment!!

taylorswift i’m working late…cause i’m a singer!! 

yourusername 🎤❤️ downbad4tayxyn you two and harry are carrying the music industry yourusername yeah, our backs are really hurting 💁‍♀️ tayxynstan ily ur so unserious 💖

torilovesyn you didn’t have to wreck my heart like that with lie to girls 🥺

yourusername i’m really sorry 😓

joeyking the album? incredible! the picture? beautiful!

yourusername aren’t you the sweetest?🩵

ynrrystan excuse me, this lyric ???? who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent????

ilyynrry it’s giving harry at the grammys 😦 ynsfits and y/n was wearing a sheer dress like the song mentions! ynrry i’m gonna pass out.

sweetyn i might let you make me juno??? wdym???

ynsespresso girl, like the movie 🤰

jackantonoff i had a lot of fun collaborating with you on this

yourusername best producer ever! 🩵

liked by ynrrysupdates, harrystyles, gemmastyles and others.

yourusername whenever people ask me why I named my new album ‘short n’ sweet’ i reply with this picture.

because that's what I am 💁‍♀️

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joeyking cute as a button 🤏🏼

yourusername that's right! 🩵

inluvwiths is that harry?

harryswife it can’t be. i hate the idea of harry dating her. eicslover because harry cares a lot about your opinion😂

ynrrystan are they official now?

ilyynrry i don’t know, mom i’m scared!!

ynrry i died dead.

jackantonoff i could fit you in my pocket 🤏

yourusername i can’t argue with that yk 💁‍♀️

harrystyles my back kinda hurts

yourusername sorry (not sorry)! harrysfineline excuse me harold??!! ynsfeather does he mean what i think he means????😱 makemejuno excuse me y/n????

ynxhs the day they confirm they're bf and gf will be one of the happiest 💕

liked by annetwist, gemmastyles, yourusername and others.

harrystyles Merry Harryween!

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annetwist great concert my love!

harryssunflower that cover of hopelessly devoted to you broke me 😭

harrysstan i need the cover on streaming platforms please!!!

yourusername you were amazing, h!! the way the whole crowd sung with you gave me chills ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

harrystyles thank you for being there ❤️ ynrrysworld how cute is this??? 💞

harryswife ugh i wish i had been there 

mialovesyn i wish y/n would have come on stage and sung with harry

ynrrysfan that would've been epic!!!

liked by harrystyles, ynrrysworld, annetwist and others.

yourusername dressed for the occasion🚬🖤 #Harryween

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joeyking face card NEVER declines

ynrry MATCHING OUTFITS????😭

ilyynrry if this isn't a confirmation then idk anything

harrystyles 🖤🖤

inluvwithynrry and now he liked and commented!!!

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ynxharrystan this is getting more real, i love it!

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iluvynrry why isn't this breaking the internet???

liked by ynrrysupdates, ynshortnsweet, taylorswift and others.

yourusername guess who will start touring with her new album really soon? yeah, you’re right. the little girl in the picture 🥹 thank you so much for making short n’ sweet #1, nothing would be the same without you guys 🩵

stay tuned for date announcements!💋

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torilovesyn omg please announce them now, i can’t wait!!

taylorswift the pop princess of our dreams 🤍

yourusername tay, stop! 🥹  downbad4tayxyn can you imagine being called pop princess of our dreams by THE taylor swift? yourusername i feel i’m about to wake up at any minute

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yourusername stop the short ppl banter!! 

harrystyles so happy for you!

yourusername 💖💖💖

ynrrylover aww bf and gf supporting each other 💜 harryswife they're not a couple. ynrry not that we know of but it's evident they like each other.

eicslover i hope you come to london, i can't wait to scream juno's lyrics

yourusername you and me both 🩵

liked by ynrrysupdates, youtube, harry styles and others.

yourusername I think I might have taken a liking to launching surprise things, here's the please please please music video 💄 🩵

thanks to my incredible director and the crew who made my ideas and thoughts come to life 🩵

and also, thanks to the one and only @/harrystyles for agreeing to work with me on this as soon as I presented the idea ❤️

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harrystyles my pleasure! i had so much fun filming this ❤️

eicslover yn goes to jail but the first thing she does is checking her make up... iconic 💋

jackantonoff i feel like a proud father on his kids' first day of school

yourusername our baby is out in the world🥺

ynrry you both look so hot on this video 🫦

harryftyn the definition of power couple

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taylorswift heartbreak is one thing 👆

yourusername my ego is another 💁‍♀️

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yourusername omg, thank you 🥺🩵

liked by iluvynrry gemmastyles, harry styles and others.

yourusername please please please mv bts 🥰

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ynsfeather thank you harry for treating y/n like she deserves ❤️

jackantonoff if my man doesn't treat me like this, i don't want him

yourusername lmo jack!!!

ynrry i don't know who i'm most jealous of

ynrrysworld ik right? eicslover it might be harry actually

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harryssunflower now that harry's tour is over his new job will be taking pics of y/n 😂

harrysgirl gemma liked omg dropping THE announcement soon!!!

thatsynespresso just like she deserves to be praised 💜

mrharrystyles 💘

angelharry what. a . man.

onlyangelyn such a queen ❤️‍🔥

liked by iluvynrry, ynrrysworld and others.

ynrrysupdates 📣⚠️ Y/N and Harry photographed at her birthday's party last weekend. Rumors has it she introduced him to her friends as her "boyfriend" 😳

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ynrry im screaming!!!

harryftyn this is amazing 🥰❤️🥰❤️

thatynespresso this picture is too cute, i can't ❤️

mrharrystyles 💜💜💜

harrysfineline harry, don't let her go!!!

ynrrysworld this is the best day of my life

onlyangelyn ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

harryssunflower the cutest ❤️

eicslover my baby girl deserves so much happiness 🩵

angelharry i stan them!! 💘

harryandyn finally!!!

well this is part 2 my friends, I hope you like it ❤️ i'd love to read some feedback :)

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 20

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Answer. Answer. Answer.

You rested your phone on your shoulder while spitting out toothpaste into the sink and rinsing your mouth with a quick gargle. It was the second time you brushed your teeth today. Whenever you felt nervous at home, without any significant outlet, you tended to repeat these actions as a form of comfort.

A flicker of hope sparked when the ringing finally stopped.

“Speak.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve been chasing you for days! Where’s what I asked you for?” you whispered, as if you weren’t alone in your house.

“Bad news. The shipment got seized as soon as it hit the city. I lost everything, including your goodies. You’ll need to wait for the next batch,” he huffed on the other end.

Your steps shifted nervously, pacing back and forth, resisting the urge to throw the phone against the wall. You breathed deeply, calculating internally the terrible toll of going over three days with nothing in your system. Biting your lips hard, you pressed them together until the metallic taste replaced the minty one.

“You can’t just tell me to wait.”

“Just from your voice, anyone can tell how desperate you are,” he chuckled. “Maybe a detox will do you good. Or you can find another supplier.”

Give in and go to Gerard because it was easier? You’d rather die.

“This isn’t about cravings, you idiot. I’m just worried about the withdrawal side effects. I have an appearance at an awards show with the band tonight, and I can’t risk showing up in this state!”

“You’ve got countless problems, and none of them are mine. Talk soon.”

His ironic tone cut through your argument, and he hung up.

Bastard.

You tore through every corner of your house as if conducting an FBI investigation. Clothes spilled out of boxes, suitcases were overturned, purses dumped, cabinets emptied.

There wasn’t a single trace. Not a crumb. Nothing left behind from a day when you were too high to notice and now might’ve been useful to ease the damned headache splitting your skull. You couldn’t even stomach breakfast; you hadn’t moved from lying flat on the living room carpet, staring at the ceiling, after the chaos you caused in your already disorganized home.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sighed deeply. There weren’t many options for who it might be. Groping blindly until you found the device, you exhaled softly through your nose upon seeing it was just Jolly reminding you not to be late tonight.

The band had been nominated for three awards: Artist of the Year, Album of the Year, and Song of the Year. It wasn’t like you all were overly confident, though you believed in the exceptional work poured into The Death of Peace of Mind. You and the guys joked about already having the awards in the bag, but Noah, ever the buzzkill, made sure to keep everyone grounded, always saying the band didn’t need any awards to prove how good it was.

Luckily, no one cared what he thought. And even though he’d refused to attend the event because of all that nonsense he believed, all of you overruled him and forced him to show up.

It probably wasn’t a good sign that you’d have to endure him for a few hours and still be polite, but you could try.

Your steps on the street were more hurried than usual, not just because you were running late to meet your friends. You never felt safe walking alone, and unfortunately, it wasn’t just because of the flood of hate you received online that could easily spill into real life. You feared other things, things beyond your control and your line of sight.

It was almost funny to think that someone like you could be afraid of anything, but you were.

In line at the pharmacy, you grabbed a bottle of water and six blister packs of muscle relaxers near the counter. The cashier bagged them, and you paid quickly, wasting no time to leave. Outside, you tore open one pack, downed three pills, and washed them down with water.

It wouldn’t work and wouldn’t ease the agony you felt, but it was all you had.

A few more blocks, and you’d be at the studio. Just keep up the pace and avoid distractions. But as you weaved through pedestrians, increasing your speed, your always-alert hearing picked up something that sent a chill down your spine: the repetitive click of a camera.

Your body threatened to freeze, but you forced your legs to keep moving. The feeling of being watched grew like a persistent shadow. You glanced quickly under your hood, over your shoulder, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but the crowd seemed like an indistinct sea of faces and movement.

Maybe it was paranoia.

That’s what you tried to convince yourself, but the sound persisted, clear and sharp. The click, followed by a short silence, then another click. Each one seemed to match the rhythm of your heart, now pounding like a frenzied drum.

What if it wasn’t paranoia?

The doubt gnawed at any shred of calm you were trying to maintain. Your steps quickened even more, and the weight of your breathing began to press on your chest. Your calves burned, but you didn’t stop. You turned corners almost without thinking, feeling sweat trickle down your temple as the sound of the camera continued, sometimes closer, sometimes farther, but always there.

You spotted the studio. Relief seemed near, but fear made you cross the street without looking. Cars honked, but you barely heard them. The gates were right in front of you, and with trembling hands, you opened them in one swift motion and shut them behind you. You stood there, pressed against the cold metal, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell uncontrollably, the sound of your breathing echoing in your ears.

"Are you okay?"

Folio's voice startled you. He was standing on the other side of the courtyard, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"You’re as pale as a wall. Did you see a ghost?"

"Yes, yes, I’m fine." Your voice came out weaker than you expected, and you swallowed hard, trying to sound convincing. "I was just in a hurry to get here."

Folio seemed to hesitate but shrugged, turning back toward the building’s entrance. You stayed there for a moment longer, your throat dry and the sound of the camera still echoing in your mind. You could have told the truth. You could have said you thought someone was following you with a camera, that the repetitive sound was stalking your steps like a phantom trail. They’d understand. It wouldn’t be the first time they dealt with stalker fans, invasions of privacy, or unauthorized surveillance.

But you didn’t know what you’d seen. You weren’t sure if there was really someone there or if it was just your mind projecting the fears you carried every time you walked alone through the streets.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pushed the gate and headed inside, but the unease lingered. Even with the studio lights and the voices of your friends in the background, you still felt the sensation of being watched. As if, somewhere out there, a pair of eyes continued following your every move.

“You shouldn’t ruin your day reading this kind of stuff online.” Jolly broke your trance as he scrolled through a website on his tablet.

“I’m just looking for entertainment,” you said, feeling each ounce of common sense leaving your brain as the hairdresser yanked on strands of your hair with force while styling it.

“Entertaining yourself by reading negative comments about you?” He laughed, sitting beside you and briefly checking his appearance in the mirror. “Maybe I haven’t told you how strange I think you are sometimes.”

“I like knowing someone hates me more than I do myself,” you let out a faint chuckle.

“I hate that kind of joke.”

He cut you off in a serious tone, his gaze dropping, making you shrug your shoulders. You felt comfortable enough in his presence to talk about the nonsense that passed through your mind, even though Jolly could be unpredictable with his responses. Sometimes, he could be gentle and understanding just by listening, and other times, he could say something so impactful it would leave you speechless.

That’s why you were friends—he knew exactly where your limits lay.

“I feel like I’m back at that show before our vacation in California in 2020 when they forced us to go on stage injured and then accused me of assaulting Noah. Sure, people already talked badly about me before, but I didn’t know the gates of hell would open that damned night.”

“I understand why you didn’t want to address it since you thought it was just between the two of you, and I partly agree…” he nodded, flexing his lips. “But you do realize Noah staying quiet contributed to people drawing whatever conclusions they wanted about you.”

“At the time, I thought he just wanted to avoid bringing up a sensitive topic for me,” you argued, offering a reasoning even you didn’t find convincing. “I was also messing up and lying to him. In my mind, if I got punished for it by letting him hurt me too, we’d be even.”

“And afterward?” he asked. “You two kept being seen together, and the internet kept tearing you apart, especially when they assumed you’d broken up, and things got even worse after the tour was canceled. I’m not bringing this up to turn you against him—not when I’m not taking sides—but I want you to understand how unfair you are every time you take what these people say as absolute truth when your only mistake was protecting him. But who protected you?”

At that moment, the silence was only more agonizing than the sound of the hairdryer.

You’d never even wanted to be protected and had never seen things from that perspective because you firmly believed you’d never need it. You’d always been enough for yourself, remember?

“I don’t think he meant any harm. We’ve never doubted that you’re his entire world, and how the aftermath of the breakup made him act like he’d died ever since. But the way Noah sees protection is very different from the way you do,” Jolly took a deep breath before continuing. “You think protecting someone is jumping in front of them, but he thinks protecting someone is putting them in a soundproof box.”

“Yes…” your voice came out as a muffled whisper.

You had the impression he didn’t try to defend you from the world because he spent most of his time trying to hide you from it.

“Stop looking at these things and reliving that time!” He said, taking the tablet from your hands and tucking it under his arm. “It’s a different time, and you’re different now, aren’t you?”

No.

“Yes, yes, of course.” You nodded, something twisting in your throat.

“Just for today, get ready and enjoy the night with that guy downstairs who’s practically throwing up from anxiety because your band is about to win an award thanks to your hard work!” He winked. “If you didn’t have such a terrible relationship, this album wouldn’t even exist. So I will always be this couple's number one fan!”

“Technically…” you raised an index finger, exaggerating a deep masculine tone. “We can’t say the award is ours yet, since Bad Omens never needed a prize to prove how good we are!”

“For fuck’s sake, Noah Sebastian, go to hell!” Jolly teased, rolling his eyes before planting a quick kiss on the top of your head and leaving the room.

The two hairstylists worked in silence, their skilled fingers gliding through your hair as clouds of nearly invisible steam rose from the flat iron. The rhythmic sound of the hair being straightened was almost hypnotic, but the silence felt louder than any other noise in the room. You sat there motionless, but your mind was already elsewhere.

Then your eyes locked on the mirror in front of you. For a moment, you simply stared at the reflection, not fully recognizing what you saw. The bright dressing room light highlighted every detail you’d normally ignore.

Your face.

The dark circles under your eyes were so pronounced they looked like someone had painted deep shadows in their place. Your skin appeared dull, lifeless, with uneven patches telling stories of sleepless nights and poor nutrition. Your collarbone, nearly skeletal, jutted out from the fabric of your robe as if trying to escape your skin. The sharp and fragile bones betrayed the thinness you tried to hide.

You tilted your head slightly, analyzing your reflection as if staring at a stranger. Your fingers, previously resting idly in your lap, moved involuntarily, rising to lightly touch your cheekbones, as if to confirm whether that thin, tired skin still belonged to you.

There was something disturbing about witnessing your own decline so starkly and undeniably. Maybe it was the contrast between the glow of the lights or the hairstylists’ effort to make everything look perfect, but you couldn’t look away.

A fleeting memory surfaced: you laughing with friends, messy hair, radiant skin, and an easy smile that now seemed to belong to someone else. Someone buried somewhere you weren’t sure you could reach anymore.

You blinked, trying to dispel the growing tightness in your chest. Your breath felt trapped, as if something was sitting on your lungs. A mix of shame and sadness rose like a lump in your throat. It was hard to accept that this—this version of you—was the result of choices that had seemed small at the time but now stacked up like bricks in a wall, isolating you from who you used to be.

The hairstylists kept working, unaware of the internal battle raging inside you. One of them said something, but you didn’t hear. You just nodded, keeping your eyes fixed on the mirror, trying to find some trace of light in that empty reflection.

A fake smile under layers of makeup, hair stiff with hairspray, and a dress so tight it nearly crushed your bones. This was you, a completely different version from what you had seen in the mirror minutes earlier.

Walking toward the studio hall to meet the guys, you struggled to fasten the bracelet on your wrist with one hand while following the sound of their parallel conversation.

As soon as you arrived, your friends howled playfully to signal their approval, and you felt your face flush from the attention.

“Cream is definitely your color!” Ruffilo exclaimed, rubbing his chin in mock amazement.

“I agree! You look like a mermaid!” Folio chimed in enthusiastically. “How can you even walk in those skinny heels? Holy shit.”

“You’ll see the result by the end of the night when my feet look like rotten sponges.” You rolled your eyes and kept walking closer to them.

“We’ll be ready to carry you!” he joked, flexing his biceps, and you couldn’t hold back your laughter for long.

“We’re late,” a dry voice cut through the air, and all the smiles faded as soon as he entered the space. “I don’t even want to go, and if you guys take any longer, I’m heading back home.”

You froze the instant you heard Noah’s voice fill the room. The weight you were carrying on your shoulders seemed to double with his presence, and, instinctively, your eyes sought his.

He stood by the door, hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed in a mix of boredom and impatience. But for a moment, he didn’t move.

His eyes were fixed on you.

Noah tried to maintain his mask of irritation, but the tension in his jaw softened as he looked at you. He blinked once, as if needing to convince himself that the vision before him was real. You had never seen him so... disoriented.

And then, something shifted.

It was as if he forgot where he was, the people around him, the noise. Everything disappeared. You were there, radiant, wrapped in that dress that seemed to embrace your figure as if it had been made for you. The subtle glow of your makeup highlighted your features in a way that was almost cruel because it was impossible to look away.

But Noah was a master of disguises, and the moment he became aware of his thoughts, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Aren’t you all ready yet?” he repeated, his tone firmer than before, as if trying to hide behind his words.

The others exchanged quick glances, sensing the discomfort in the atmosphere. You tried to ignore how your throat seemed to close, as if you had caught onto something he didn’t want to show.

“Jolly just needs to finish his hair, and then we can leave,” Ruffilo replied, but Noah barely seemed to hear.

You took a hesitant step toward him, still struggling with the bracelet clasp.

“Noah… can you help me with this?” you asked deliberately, using the delay to buy more time for the others, your voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

He looked at you again, his eyes meeting yours briefly before shifting to the bracelet. A sigh escaped his lips, and he stepped forward, taking the delicate clasp between his fingers.

As he adjusted the accessory, your hands almost touched, and the warmth that spread across your skin felt like it ignited the air between you. He hesitated, his gaze once again captured by your proximity—by the small imperfections the makeup couldn’t conceal, by the emotions hiding behind your rehearsed smile.

“It’s done,” he finally said, stepping back abruptly, as if he needed to regain his composure.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a gentle smile, and he immediately looked away.

Of course, the two of you were in for a long night.

Flashes went off in an endless sequence, nearly blinding your vision as you paused on the red carpet. You all stood still as photographers scrambled for the perfect shot, and amidst the small chaos, you heard compliments thrown at everyone, especially you and the spot-on choice of your look.

“I admire your stylist’s courage,” Noah quipped without looking away from the cameras, “giving you a dress that might leave you completely exposed at any moment, even knowing how out of your mind you are.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like my dress?”

"I didn't think it was anything special."

"That's not what the rest of the men at the awards think." You held back a smile and gave him a light nudge with your elbow.

"Pathetic," he growled, his tone hardening.

Luckily, before anyone around noticed the exchange of barbs between the two of you, the photo session ended, and you finally headed toward the hall.

The hall was illuminated as if every corner glowed on its own—a true celebration befitting what music meant to so many people there. You walked to the table reserved for the band, greeting a few familiar faces along the way.

"Hey!" Landon appeared and surprised you with a hug. "Damn, you look stunning!"

"Oh, thanks," you replied, slightly hesitant.

"Definitely the biggest prize tonight will go to whoever ends up with you by their side…"

"Can we sit down already?" Noah interrupted, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. "What are you even doing here? I don’t remember your dad authorizing any support for my band!"

"I'm nominated for Album of the Year." He shrugged with false modesty. "In case you forgot, we're not the only band under the label."

"Your band's name always seems to slip my mind—probably the size of its font on festival posters. But good luck with the Album of the Year," Noah said, extending a hand for a handshake. With a strained smile, Landon shook it back.

"If the criteria are the quality of compositions, I might just take this one. Not every band wastes time writing for TikTok, baby."

Noah maintained a serious demeanor as he watched Landon walk away, and you continued to the reserved seats. His eyes occasionally darted toward you, as if he were still caught up in the tension from the entrance. You tried not to let it affect you, focusing instead on politely responding to those who complimented your dress or the band’s recent success.

"Nervous?" Folio asked, leaning closer.

"Not really," you lied, adjusting your hair. "It's just another awards show, right?"

Folio chuckled softly. "Sure, just another awards show where we might beat three bigger bands with more years in the game. Totally not nerve-wracking."

"What happened to all that talk about having this award in the bag?" you teased, reminding him of one of his past remarks.

"Forget it, girl. My ass is sweating right now!" he shot back, downing a drink.

He wasn’t wrong, but you tried to mask the tightness in your chest, thinking about how much this meant to all of you. Drinking helped you stay a bit calmer, so by the time they were announcing other categories, you were on your fourth drink. The closer they got to potentially calling the band’s name, the sweatier your hands grew.

"I think you’ve had enough for tonight," he said, taking the glass from your hand and placing it on the table.

"For someone who just won two categories at an awards show, you're awfully grumpy, Noah Sebastian!" you joked, whispering as you nudged him again. "Come on, you’re Artist of the Year and have Album of the Year! Let’s celebrate!"

"I can’t believe you’re drunk," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "You know very well I’d rather have a knife stuck in my brain than be reminded of the creative process for that album."

"But you’re forced to remember it every day, singing those songs on stage for two years now."

"Maybe that’s why I’m so happy," Noah replied sarcastically, though his body remained tense as the next announcement came closer—the Song of the Year category.

You’d bet he would rather the award go to Landon than be forced to go on stage and thank people for a song he despised, one he actively pretended didn’t exist during live shows.

"And the award goes to… Just Pretend by Bad Omens!"

You and Noah exchanged looks as the applause erupted. He was frozen in his seat, unwilling to stand, his frustration clear from being denied his wish. He hated losing, but right now, Noah wished for it.

Your fingers discreetly grasped his hands on the table, gently pulling him to follow you onto the stage. With each step toward the stage, you felt the weight of emotion growing with the applause, but there was something more. Noah was beside you, and while he kept his expression composed, the slight tremor in his fingers as he held the trophy revealed what words could not.

"Well…" he began, his attention divided between the trophy and the audience. His fingers were as unsteady as the tone of his voice.

You knew every micro-expression of his and could tell he was on the verge of breaking down—not just from nerves. Noah’s mind was flooded with memories, each one torturing him all at once.

"This award means so much to us…" You discreetly took over at the microphone. Thanks to the drinks, you were braver than ever. "Just Pretend is a beautiful song written by this guy right here, who, believe it or not, never put much faith in its power. But our fans did. They gave it new meaning—something different for each person who listened and made it their favorite. We thank you for redefining it and turning a song about loss into something about gain. This award is for you!"

Applause. Deafening applause.

As you stepped off the stage for the last time that night, Noah finally looked directly at you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

"Don’t think I’m going to thank you for this," he tried to use sharp words that completely contradicted what was in his eyes.

"Oh, I won’t be able to sleep tonight without Noah Sebastian’s gratitude," you said, feigning drama as you placed a hand on your forehead, smiling when he scoffed.

"We’re going to a bar to celebrate," Noah said, tossing the invitation into the air without looking directly at you. "The whole label’s going, and if you want to come…"

"Hmm…" You pouted, taking a few hesitant steps back to the table. "Tempting invitation, but I have a better commitment."

His steps halted abruptly, and he didn’t even bother to hide it as people navigated around your frozen bodies in the main passageway. You looked over your shoulder at him, narrowing your eyes when you saw the indifference in his face melt into a single emotion: jealousy.

"Where are you going?" he asked, gripping the trophy tighter as he stared at the widening smile on your lips.

"Find out."

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

[caprisun89bakerstreet]

Obi-wan x (undiagnosed) ADHD reader headcannons

(Because i doubt the order has therapists)

He doesn’t know how you do it

You get distracted so easily

And yet, you’re one of the most skilled jedi somehow

One time he had to hold you in place because you kept bouncing off the walls

At 3am

He didn’t know where you got the energy

Especially when you started info dumping him about the newest information about your favorite holoshow

But he wouldn’t ever admit to you that he zoned out midway during your rambles, since he cares about you more than anyone

He did however have to force you to sit still

Which didn’t work, but he let you fidget with his hands. A habit that he was very fond of.

There were also days where the two of you were training, and you were either in or out of it- There is no in between

Training sessions either lasted 10 minutes or up to 2 hours because you were that good at letting everything else fade away and focus on the present

And even though the both of you are masters at soresu, you could beat him with ease almost every time

But only if you wouldn’t keep getting distracted

Luckily during missions, you rarely were. He guessed it had to do with the fact there was actual danger

You also hummed very often. Or used various different catchphrase which would change every two weeks.

And when you finally stopped saying “I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer” on a random tuesday, he almost felt like he needed to celebrate. You were exhausting sometimes

But he still loves you

He also know how overstimulated you can get, and knows your routines that help you with it and tries to help you as best as he can

You hate wearing your outside robe in your quarters, you got really drained after a social day, and tea was something that helped you calm down.

So he was always there with your comfort sweater (or his), a blanket and a warm cup of tea and his arms around you whenever you had a long day

Because he’s that thoughtful

And he loves you very much

take this as an excuse that i have still not finished guilty as sin p.2 i can't seem to get the ending right!!

[muraae]

i’m sorry (but also really not) but this the vaultghoul poto au has me in a chokehold- and i don’t know if i’ll ever write or if someone else wants the challenge, but here are my thoughts on what the au could be.

a vaultghoul phantom of the opera au where cooper is the phantom and lucy is christine.

would have elements from both the book, musical, and the show.

cooper obviously looks like how he is in the show for his disfigurement, and wears a black half mask to cover the upper half of his- also kudos for this because coop does look exactly like erik (the phantom) in the book.

debating if cooper will be born deformed or someone or something causes him to be disfigured.

i personally like the latter more just to play with the idea of cooper once being a famous star within the opera house who befell a terrible incident that ruined his life and is now embittered and angry, wishing to exact vengeance against those that ruined his life.

only a slightish change, but ‘the ghoul’ is added along with ‘the phantom’ and ‘the opera ghost’ as his other aliases.

lucy is a ballet dancer in the opera, the daughter of the famous soprano, rose maclean. i’m not certain where hank would be for this au, but he’s not exactly in the family picture, but i would want him to cause some kind of conflict in the future.

slow down there abbie, we don’t have time to write a full story- let’s just stick to the basics.

lucy and norm come to live and work at the opera house under the care of moldaver (madame giry) after the death of their mother- lucy in the ballet corps. and norm with the stagehands.

lucy had always been a talented singer until she hears a voice in the halls, vents, and the grand stage she visits late at night, and starts starts teaching her that the managers begin to take notice.

cooper takes notice of lucy whenever she walls the grand stage late at night singing to herself. he becomes intrigued by her.

so cooper watches lucy from afar and doesn’t make himself known to her as the ‘voice’ until he finds her crying in the opera chapel, grieving for her mother after a long, trying day.

mother said, "When i'm in heaven, child, i will send the angel of music to you."

cooper commends her voice, but tells lucy it needs training. he offers her voice lessons, promising to help lucy become the greatest singer the world has seen- does it come at a cost later on for his own purposes- that it is for all to decide if lucy is a means to an end but ends up wrecking his plans by becoming more.

fuck i’m getting sidetracked again-

over the years the two develop a bond that extends the bounds of teacher and student, cooper’s infatuation with lucy becoming deeper.

steph is lucy’s roommate and friend- sharing the role of meg with norm- and she and norm are the only two who can put up with lucy’s disappearances and odd hours, though are concerned by the strange behavior.

cooper continues to reign the opera house as his domain, demanding the managers to follow his instructions on how the opera should run, and causes ‘accidents’ if anything doesn’t go his way.

on the night of the gala, lucy finds herself replacing the prima donna when the former falls ill. she is an overnight sensation and ensnares the hearts of half the city, and much to cooper’s jealous chagrin, catches the eye of the opera’s newest patron.

i’m tempted to make maximus raoul, however, monty would fit a little better- so we’re going with monty because i want this vicomte and his intentions towards the new starlet to be sinister. because fuck monty.

lucy is at first flattered by monty’s attention, but becomes soon after uncomfortable by his advances.

and though she is charmed by the young detective (maximus) that was hired by the managers to prove there is no opera ghost, she is still drawn to the mysterious voice.

on the night of her triumph, cooper reveals himself and takes lucy into the vast underground tunnels of the opera house. it is here where lucy becomes enamored by the man who has given her so much, but is confused why he wears the mask. Surely a face would match a voice as beautiful and deep as his.

it only takes removing a mask to change the course of a relationship and for the two of them to cross the point of no return.

[teawithnosugar]

Singer!Ellie headcanons

AN: oh em geee, hi hi hi. I know it’s been like AWHILE and I promised a oneshot (it is still in my drafts and more than halfway done) but I’ve been crocheting for a good 8 hours straight, it’s 4am, and I put my rlly rlly old playlist on shuffle and the songs gave me IDEAS. I did not follow my usual format (???) on this cause likeeee…yk, I’m sleepy and tired and lazy. Also this isn’t like super accurate cause obviously I’m not a singer and idk how they work.

CW: none rlly, I mentioned reader wearing dresses once

★ Imagine Ellie writing music not in the Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic way a lot of ppl picture but in the Boygenius (pretty common) and Ed Sheeran way iykwim.

★ She’s rich af but doesn’t spend big amounts of money unless it’s for you. It doesn’t matter if you have your own money or you didn’t ask her to— SHE WILL SPOIL YOU.

★ Picture her in the most “okay” looking clothes that are so low quality that it makes her itchy but she’s buying you Versace dresses and shit.

★ She’s never told anyone except for Jesse (you guys’ bff and her music producer) but whenever she’s planning her next tour or concert with her staff, she tries to suggest dates and times that are convenient for you to watch. She absolutely needs you in the audience for her to perform well but she would never ask you to change your schedule for her.

★ Nah but just imagine her singing smtg like Perfect or True Blue on stage and her eyes are on you legit 99% of the time and people on tiktok post abt it nonstop.

★ If you had a career that made you just as famous as her, you bet she’s saving every single edit of you she sees on tiktok or insta.

★ Obviously she has your initials carved on her guitar and obviously everyone saw.

★ She’s already written many different versions of what her vows would be once you guys got married and every time she had a new draft, she’d turn the old one(s) into songs so they wouldn’t be a waste.

★ She never told you but one of her albums was just all old drafts of her vows to you.

★ You fully trust her 100% but sometimes you need reassurance every once in awhile but you also don’t like bothering her. She tells you all the time that you could never bother but you’re stubborn so whenever she’s staying late at the studio because she’s busy she makes Jesse send pictures of her to you like once every hour or so so you could see that she was truly at work and not doing anything else (like bereal ig).

★ She also made sure to tell Jesse not to say that she told him to do it. He just says shit like “ooh like at how obsessed this bitch is with you, this new song is cheesy af” so it comes off as him teasing you instead of reassuring you.

★ Is super awkward but in a charming way.

★ Your wedding would be super private and as soon as you guys are married, she takes time off work more often to spend more time with you.

★ In conclusion, she’s down BAD